Abby Ch. 04

James smiled then and an impish gleam came into his eyes. "Well, as Bernard in Yes Prime Minister would say, I don't know, Prime Minister; because I don't know what you don't know." Abby had a fleeting acquaintance with the programme and understood the reference.

"Well when I have finished grilling Sam, I will start on you, Ve haf ways of making you talk."

James nodded. "Well you can try, but I'm just a country bumpkin really, so don't expect revelations." Abby thought that country bumpkin was the last label she would apply to James Comberford, his manners and speech indicated a good education.

Abby busied herself with the still nuzzling horse, which at that moment decided that the little patch of green grass was far more inviting. "So, did you know my grandmother?"

James shook his head. "No, I was very young when she died, I knew of her though, in a small place like this everyone knows everyone, even those who have passed away, are still part of the community as if they had never died."

Abby pushed on. "You did know my mother, then?"

"Marion, yes, I knew her. Bear in mind though, that she was about seven years older than me, and that is a great difference to an eight year old and a fifteen year old. So you couldn't say we were friends, but we said hello, and she did take pity on me when your grandfather chased me off the station. It always seemed so unfair, that she could have the run of the place, and I was regularly sent packing." Abby did some quick reckoning in her mind, so he was nine years older than she; he looked younger than forty-three.

"From what I've heard from Sam, mum didn't quite have the run of the place."

James shrugged his shoulders. "Well it seemed like that." Abby decided not to ask if he knew about her grandfather's suicide, she felt it was something best discussed with Sam and Mary, as she was certain that there was something that Sam was hiding from her last night.

She didn't want James to wander off just yet, so asked him about his family's involvement in the valley. "Your family would appear to have been here for quite a time, you get frequent mentions in this little history."

He leaned over to look. "What one is that, oh yes, my father said it was written more with personal ambition in mind than historical fact. There's a copy somewhere at the House. In answer to your question, yes, we have been around for some time. My great, great, plus a few more greats, grandfather had a small farm, and by dint of a little smuggling, poaching and other nefarious activities, eventually came to own most of the land in the valley. My, we were grand then, but since the turn of the century, what with taxes and all, the family have descended into a sort of gentrified poverty. We maintain the standards of course, by not appearing to work, and living off the rents, and one or two investments. It's a hard life really."

Abby caught the sardonic inflexions in his voice, and knew that he was indulging in economies of the truth. She turned and began to walk along the platform, pleased when he gathered the reins and leading the horse fell into step beside her.

"So if it's as hard as all that, why don't you sell?" He looked at her in shock.

"Sell? Never! Look around, look at all this beautiful countryside; can you think of anywhere better to live?" She had to admit that he had a point. She had become more attached to the place with every day that passed. Not because of her own family links, but for the peace, and the feeling of well being that had cloaked her since her arrival.

"So what do you do all day, except ride around, pop in to the pub at lunchtime, and generally oversee the serfs." Her bantering tone was unmistakeable, and he replied in the same vein.

"Oh well I tumble one of the serving girls in the morning, have a good breakfast, ride out and throw a poor family onto the streets, take a leisurely lunch at the Inn, whilst a groom stands and holds the horse in the pouring rain, get back to the house in time for a rest before dinner, then cards with me cronies, who of course deliberately lose, then bed. Oh yes it's a hard life." Abby was laughing now.

"If you tumble the serving wenches then there could be a lot more of your family around here than one would think."

James was affronted. "Do you think we don't know what to do? If the silly girl gets herself in a delicate condition, she gets paid off and sent away, come on now, us ruling classes have our standards." He suddenly changed tone. "Except we are not the ruling class, that's if we ever had been." He pointed at the old track bed. "That changed the world forever."

Abby caught his change of mood and a tone that sounded like regret in his voice. "You sound as if you regret the railway coming here."

He shook his head. "No, it wasn't the railway, that did the valley a lot of good, but it started a process of change, which eventually destroyed a way of life, for good or bad. The process went on and ironically destroyed the railway itself. It's still going on, and people are caught up in it like a treadmill, never being able to stand still and take stock, but forever having to push forward, or lose their place. Here thankfully, we are little affected. We can actually enjoy being alive and living in this beautiful valley."

They had reached the old approach now, and James admired Abby's car. "Always thought that I would like one of those, too expensive for me, though. I'd have to drive to Paverton to fill it up, cost a gallon of petrol just for that, diesels best round here."

Abby protested. "Isn't diesel fuel more expensive than unleaded petrol."

James nodded, and then winked. "Yes but Red diesel bought for a farm tractor carries a lot less tax. Not supposed to do it, but an occasional fill has been known."

Abby was still laughing as she climbed into the car. "You know when you were talking about your great, to the nth. power, grandfather. Well he is not the only one who practices nefarious activities; it must run in the family." James grinned wickedly. As she drove out, she suddenly stopped. "If you want to drive this, you're welcome, anytime."

James had mounted Cass. "I'll take you up on that, but you have to ride a horse in return. Oh incidentally, I hope you didn't think I was being rude that first time we met. You know you look very much like Marion, and I was taken aback when I saw you properly, it was as if I had seen a ghost."

Abby shook her head. "I was annoyed at the time, but realised later it must have been a shock for you, so I forgive you." James inclined his head in acknowledgement, lifted his hand in farewell and turned Cass away, as Abby put the car into drive and turned towards the village.

To be continued